No More Chicken
by talking-eye
Summary: An inside scope of the domestic life of Cristina & Burke. Set after 3.04. BANG fluff. Potentially OOC. Ch.8 is up
1. Chapter 1

A/N: An extension of the final 20 seconds of 3.04 on Burke & Cristina. I don't own any of the characters, but I own my raspberry chicken recipe…

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He smiled with confidence. She reflected that back to him with a smile of contentment.

Burke was making her dinner. Cristina never told anyone how she had always wanted a man who could cook, especially when this man was Preston Burke, the renowned surgeon.

Her boyfriend was a surgeon. The surgeon was her boyfriend. Shifting the two nouns back and forth as she walked towards the bedroom, a chill suddenly ran through her spine as she turned back.

The last thing she expected was an unequally confused look in Burke's eyes.

"It'll be a while before dinner's ready." Although spoken casually, Burke was clearly trying to downplay his preoccupation—but about what?

"Ok."

Instead of heading back to the bedroom, Cristina walked towards the fridge. Exhausted as she was, somehow she felt glued to the kitchen the same way she felt compelled to stay at the morgue earlier that afternoon.

"What recipe are you using?" Cristina asked as she poured orange juice into Burke's mug.

"Can't tell. I improvise."

"Well, I have complete trust on the chicken chef."

"You're calling me names."

"You don't like that?" Cristina smirked. "How about chicken…"

"George."

"What? Do you miss Bambi so much that you've to call out his name out of the blue?"

"Chicken George. He's a famous character in a TV show."

Standing by him at the counter and holding his cup to his lips, Cristina asked, "Seriously? You actually watched TV as a kid!"

"What else do you think I would be doing? Suturing chickens?"

Burke continued to marinate the chicken as Cristina looked down and took a sip from his mug.

"I thought you're the kid who's always hiding in the library or the lab."

"Well, I did… but…"

"So you're the nerd who watches TV but doesn't know who Madonna is," Cristina blinked.

"Cristina, sometimes I'm really impressed by your sarcasm."

Burke sprinkled more herbs on top of the chicken in silence.

"Hey! You're not mad at me again, are you?"

Pushing the tray into the oven, Burke was surprised by the sign of panic over Cristina's face.

"What if I am?"

"You can't be," Cristina protested.

"Why not?"

"All the nerdy guys I know are soft and mellow."

"I didn't realize you have a thing for nerds, Cristina." Burke raised his brows.

"That isn't what I mean, Burke!"

Taking off his apron, Burke began scrubbing the grease off his hands. "I'll never know what you mean if you don't tell me."

"Well, you're different," Cristina licked her lips with some anxiety, "You know—"

"Because I was the best cardiothoracic surgeon in the country."

"Burke…"

"That's who I was. That's what you care about."

"You know it's not true."

Burke was not sure if he could take her word for it as he searched through the determined features on her face.

"Forget it, Cristina. When I'm not a surgeon, I'm just like any one of them."

Cristina wondered how many more times they had to go over the same conversation but she couldn't stop herself from blurting something out.

"You're different," Cristina shot a glance at him before shifting her focus to the kitchen tiles, "You're not the same because you cook, you bring me coffee, and there's no one else…no one else who has caused so much trouble in my life."

Every single word Cristina uttered was genuine, but she could not deny she did constantly think about Burke's identity as a surgeon—she knew it was important to him and she wanted him to be happy again. That's why she cared.

Burke brushed his forehead with his finger before resting his hands on the back of his waist. The mixed message by Cristina confused him.

"There'll be more trouble ahead, Cristina."

Not giving him another chance to send her away, Cristina smoothed out the edge created by his pointed elbows by wrapping her arms around his from behind, tightly. Resting her head on his broad and sturdy back, Cristina could feel his heartbeat. She didn't care if he would understand her, because sometimes she also didn't understand herself.

"I'm not going to leave."

Burke did not turn back to look. He just stood there, feeling the gentle pressure on his back. He was not sure if he understood what she meant, but he could feel how their heart beat began to synchronize.

"The raspberry chicken is ready."

Cristina smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch. 2 **  
"You don't like the chicken?" Burke squinted at Cristina as she played with her food absent-mindedly.

"Oh, no, I like it."

"Really?"

Cristina put down her fork and leaned forward. "Burke—"

"Yes?"

"Who taught you how to cook?"

"Does it really taste THAT bad?" Burke carefully chewed another piece of it as he questioned Cristina.

"I mean, is it something easy to learn?"

It was hard for Burke to understand what was going on in that petite head. Who didn't know Cristina couldn't cook and swore that she would never take it up?

"I thought you hated cooking."

Cristina knew it was going to sound dumb, but she didn't care anymore, because this was the night that she felt safe to talk about things, this was the moment when they seemed to connect.

"Well, I uh… I did. But maybe it's time to acquire a new skill?"

"What for?"

"You know, in movies and stuff, the girl learns cooking when she wants to impress a guy. I think it's very old-school, but it's worth trying."

"So you want me to help you to impress this guy?" Burke flashed a smile, a bright and relaxed one that she had dearly missed.

"Apparently."

"I don't know how much I can teach you."

"Everything. Well, except, maybe, I think I'm already an expert in chicken mutilation. That I don't need to learn."

"Ok. You'll be doing the dishes this week."

Cristina frowned. She was trying to learn to cook. She wasn't asking for dishes to clean.

"Is that meant to be my cooking class tuition fee?"

"Nope. You said you want to learn everything, so we'll start with the basics."

"I don't see the connection."

"You will. Now, finish your food before it gets cold," Burke laughed.

"Alright," Cristina put another piece of chicken into her mouth and nodded with some suspicion.

"I'm the best teacher you can find. Your guy will be impressed, so will his mother."

Cristina rolled her eyes, pretending she didn't hear the last part of the sentence. 

She wasn't sure how long he would remain in high spirits, but she would definitely go and thank whoever told her that food would make a man happy. Cristina missed the radiance on Burke's face. If cooking was this one thing that could keep him confident, she would play along.

"I am ready," Cristina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and walked towards the kitchen sink.

She knew she would find a way to get out of doing the dishes tonight. Cristina tried to hide her naughty smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch. 3 **  
Burke walked towards where Cristina was standing and put his arm around her waist.

"Thank you for washing the dishes tonight."

"Wait, that's it? You haven't told me how this is related to cooking!" Cristina shook her head in disbelief.

"I am an educator and I don't spoon feed my students. You got to find meaning in dish washing yourself." Burke gulped down some water and dipped his glass into the sink briskly. "I'm going for a walk. Don't break anything."

Just as he was about to walk away, Cristina grabbed his hand and re-set it on her waist. No way would he leave her here with the dirty pots and trays.

"Stay."

"How can you do the dishes when I'm standing so close to you?" Burke raised his eye brows. 

Cristina let the tap water run as the sink began to fill. She wasn't going to wash the dishes. Instead, she glanced at Burke and said, "I need a man to help me rub the grease off that oven tray and saucepan. Someone in this house really likes that saucepan. He'll be mad if I scratch it with my clumsy hands."

Burke gave in and said, "Fine, I'll do those two for you. Only these two."

Stepping aside, a smile of victory covered her face. Cristina laid her fingers across her chin as she examined the undivided attention on Burke's face. Even when he was rubbing off the grease on the saucepan, he was very focused. She loved that expression, whether it was here or when he was performing surgery in the OR.

_Where else would she find a man who was good at both the OR and the kitchen?_

Cristina reached out and gave a small peck on his neck. He smelled like raspberry chicken, but way more scrumptious.

"Here," Capitalizing on his attentiveness, she passed a dirty plate to him.

Cristina knew he would take it and wash it. Before long, Burke was practically washing everything for her. Anyone who's known a clean freak knew how easy it was to make him lose control over rubbing and rinsing the dishes. The behavior came off so naturally that by the time Burke started cleaning the surface of the kitchen counter with Windex, Cristina kissed him again from behind and said, "Don't forget the stovetop."

That's when Burke came to the realization that he had been tricked. "Cristina! I thought you're supposed to be the one to clean up tonight!"

"I didn't want to interrupt when you're having so much fun," Cristina grinned.

"I'm not going to teach you how to cook." 

"No, you will."

"Nope. That's it. No more cooking lessons because you didn't follow what I said."

"What a pity," Cristina licked her lips. "My guy will be disappointed."

"I'm sure you have other means to impress him."

"Burke—" Cristina paused for a moment before her eyes twinkled.

"I think I do."

Cristina took his hand and pulled him into their room. Even in darkness, it was obvious that they were both grinning.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Getting some feedback would be nice... At least let me know that you actually read it.

**Ch. 4**

"What do we want to do now?"

Cristina held her head up with one arm, the other one lying across Burke's chest. The bed was so cozy that she swore she did not want to move another inch under the blanket.

Her gaze on him was lazy yet mesmerizing. There was something about the woman beside Burke that made his mouth water and his tongue tingle the way he did when he was given a lollipop as a kid. Without much thought, he turned and covered her with kisses.

"You smell like raspberry chicken," Cristina giggled as his hair brushed across her face.

"Don't you love that?" Burke's lips curled up.

"Burke, I've an idea—"

"What?" Burke allowed himself another smile, while Cristina suddenly sprang up and pulled out a huge bathing towel from the closet.

"I know you'll love it," Cristina smirked.

Burke couldn't help but squint his eyes in a funny way when he finally understood what she meant from the way she was caressing his head.

"What if I say no?"

"Come on, Burke," Cristina responded in a pleading tone. It was a crazy idea but she was pretty confident it would work.

Before long, Burke found himself wrapped in a towel in front of the shower. The fingers massaging his scalp were delicate yet powerful. Gently and slowly, the unsettled feeling within him was rubbed away. He wanted to tell her how good it felt, but he was so relaxed that he lost the ability to move his tongue.

"Hey!" The chill of from the shower head made him laugh. "You're supposed to wash my hair, not to make my entire body wet!"

"I'm sorry," Cristina stuck out her tongue a little. "It just reminds me of how I used to give Buddy a good bath."

"Buddy?"

"Meredith wasn't the only one who had a pet," Cristina shut her eyes for a second, remembering her handsome companion that she used to ride on before her step-dad took it away.

Burke caught a glimpse of her as he turned his head. Sad wasn't the word he would use to describe her expression, but it certainly was one of those moments when her features went soft. He was content that he had the privilege to see a side of Cristina that no one else could.

He hated to admit that during his occasional moments of insecurity, he always saw her as cold and distant. Deep at heart, however, he knew she had so much more for anyone to discover.

Cristina put her hands on his head again to rinse off the shampoo. She loved it when her fingers were put to good use.

"Ok, Burke. Here comes the fun part—"

When Burke saw the beaming face on his girlfriend's face, he wondered if it was a good idea to allow this woman to mess with his head—but who could resist that?


	5. Chapter 5

**Ch. 5**

Like what Burke would normally do before operating on someone, Cristina took a deep breath and flexed her neck.

The thought that there was something that's more exciting than surgery in her life made her giddy.

"Cristina, are you sure you can handle this?"

"Stop being a skeptic. I'm very good at this."

"Really? Who was the last person you practiced on?"

"Well, actually… It was Doc."

"What? You mean Meredith's dog?" Burke was now feeling his life at stake. "Cristina, maybe we should—"

"No. I want to do it. Let me do it!"

Burke sighed. He knew she was taking it very seriously. "Just be careful, Ok?"

"You'll be pleasantly surprised," Cristina's eyes were shining as she raised the blades. "I promise."

"I'll take my chances," Burke closed his eyes. He hoped Cristina knew what she was doing. 

"If anything bad happens, I'll buy you exotic scrub caps," Without delay, Cristina was beginning her work.

"You mean you aren't gonna get me a wig?" Burke smirked.

Burke still couldn't believe he let Cristina trim his hair. The only other woman who had ever given him a haircut at home was his mother, but that was a good 30 years ago. In general, he was very particular about it. When he was younger, there were at least two times he nearly dumped a girl because she was commenting on his hair or trying to do something about it.

_No wonder his Mama was jealous._ This curly hair intern actually got as much power on him as his mother did; and THE MOTHER was assumed to be divine!

"Don't move," Cristina demanded.

"Yes, ma'am," Burke nodded. 

"I said, DON'T MOVE! Stop nodding."

_His life was really in her hands now._ He laughed nervously to himself without moving another piece of his muscle.

"You know, we should have done this earlier. This is completely out of control!" Cristina mumbled as her hands worked busily up and down the back of Burke's head.

"I actually like to let it grow," Burke protested.

"I'm not going to date a bushman."

"Even if he has all the wonderful qualities I possess?" Burke laughed.

"Shut up, Burke."

"Hey, you said don't move. You didn't say I can't talk."

"Fine. Keep distracting me, Burke, and you'll not want to be in front of the mirror for 2 weeks," Cristina grinned maliciously.

As if knowing what she was up to, Burke quit sitting still and turned to take a good look at her. How many times did he have to guard himself against falling completely for the intensely focused look on her face?

"Cristina—"

"Be patient," Cristina was back to her serious, all-work-no-play mode. "Now turn around."

"Alright," Burke closed his eyes and surrendered his trust to her.

It was a very comfortable experience. He sort of wished he could be that trusting all the time. It never occurred to either of them that he was hoping to get as much reassurance from the relationship as she desired from him.

After making one final adjustment, Cristina put down her scissors, "I think you shouldn't go out tomorrow."

"What did you do, Cristina?"

Burke jumped up in horror and tried to rush to the mirror, but Cristina covered his eyes with her hands.

"Honey, you're too gorgeous for your own good," Cristina teased him. "I can't afford the ransom if somebody kidnaps you."

A series of silly laughter filled the bathroom as the couple disappeared into the steam.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Whether I will update again depends on a lot of things. Let me know if you like it

xxx

"Cristina, your hair is still wet," Burke sounded like her mother. "You'll catch a cold if you sleep now."

"I'm tired," Cristina murmured as her body sank into the mattress.

"Cristina, you'll have very bad headaches when you get old if you sleep with wet hair," Burke was gently rocking her, trying to wake her up.

"I don't care," Cristina tried to push him away.

"But I do," Burke whispered behind her ear. "I don't want our grand children to make fun of their grandmother, who develops aspirin-dependence just because she didn't take care of herself when she's young."

"What?" Cristina was exhausted and didn't quite catch the whole thing, but it automatically triggered a suspicious frown on her face. "Let me sleep."

"Come on, Cristina."

Burke couldn't help sniffing around the soft petite figure in bed like an excited puppy. Little did Burke notice that he was sharing the same smell tonight—because Cristina forced him to use the same bath oil with her just now. The details were not important, but already he was waiting for their next "bathroom date". Lucky for him to have a girlfriend who didn't love lavender—that girlish scent would not have worked as well as the zesty ginger scent.

"Sit up, Cristina, let me blow-dry your hair," Burke plugged in the dryer and grinned at his sleepy head.

Cristina reluctantly got pulled out of bed. Sitting in the middle of the bed, with her eyes still half shut, Cristina treated the noise of the dryer as her lullaby.

Kneeling beside her, Burke smoothened out her messy curls and carried the dryer with as much skill as he did with the scalpel, "You've the most unruly hair in the world. You'll never find another person who can tame it as well as I do."

"Hmmm…" Cristina couldn't make out what Burke was saying, but she assumed it was something nice.

She liked the warmth radiating from behind, whether it was his breath or the dryer she could not really tell—and it wasn't important. She loved how he was cupping his hand over the back of her head to keep it from falling into the mattress.

"If I teach you how to cook, will you let me blow dry your hair every day?"

"Hmmm…"

Burke let a smirk cross his face.

"If I ask you to marry me, will you say yes?"

"Hmmm…" Cristina suddenly became fully awake. "Say that again?"

Burke expected that reaction and simply grinned. He wasn't really trying to propose to her tonight, because he knew they were not ready to take a step further. But it was fun to watch her reaction. She was looking so confused, so unlike the confident and proud intern girlfriend who had been bossing him around lately.

"Nothing," Burke combed through her hair with his fingers a few times and kissed her head. "Now, go to bed."

_Didn't he just ask me to marry him?_ Cristina was surprised that he dropped the subject immediately. Looking at his face, she found no trace of disappointment. In fact, he seemed to be quite giddy about her response.

_Since when had it become so hard to read his expression? _Cristina squinted her eyes.

"Burke, I'm not tired anymore," Cristina hovered herself over him.

Feeling the tender caress, another smile spread across Burke's face.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This isn't new. I added it to the MTC board last week but I forgot to upload it to Regardless, enjoy!

ooooooooooooo

"It's late, Cristina. You've to wake up at 5 to go to work tomorrow."

"So?" Cristina fitted her hand beneath her chin and looked pensively at him.

"So we should sleep."

"No, so _I_ should sleep," Cristina rolled her eyes in protest. "But I can't, because you woke me up just now."

"You know you're being difficult?" Burke raised one side of his lips and let his hands wander up and down her stomach.

"That doesn't help," Cristina pretended to frown. "You'll only get me aroused."

"What do you want then?" Burke looked at the mysterious yet alluring expression on her face. "I can warm you a glass of milk."

"No."

"Want me to play some music?"

"Wait, you mean YOU will play me some music?" Cristina widened her eyes and smiled mischievously.

"Well, I mean I could get a CD."

"No, I like your idea." Cristina blinked again. "You play."

Burke didn't speak.

"Please," Cristina touched the back of his ear with her lips.

Burke's voice turned heavy. "I don't know if I can ever play trumpet again."

Immediately, Cristina realized she had said the wrong thing. _They were having such a great night and she was on the verge of blowing it because of one stupid demand!_

"Honey, I'm sorry," Cristina pressed her palm on top of his chest, hoping she could take away absorb some of the heaviness in his heart.

Burke did not respond but turned away. That scared her. _He was becoming so sensitive now, like a woman; a wife._

"Burke…"

Cristina lied on the bed in silence, wondering about what was going on. She would not forgive herself for making him mad. _But what was he doing now? Turning away to torture her? _

Cristina, too, had become more sensitive.

Just when she was about to apologize again, Cristina was stunned.

_"Old McDonald had a farm, E-i ei o. And on that farm he had some chicks, E-i ei o…"_

"Burke, you're not singing, are you?" Cristina was consumed by surprise and excitement as her man closed his eyes and continued dwelling on the tune.

Burke never told Cristina singing was another secret passion of his, although he sucked at it. Trumpeter Burke was the one with talent, but singer Burke deserved a round of applause for making an effort—even though it was a horrible song.

_The man couldn't sing. _Cristina smiled to herself. She was in love with a man who had the funniest singing voice, and who picked the dorkiest song she had ever heard of! He could have sung _Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star_ if he didn't know the lullaby, but the farmer song?

Cristina's mind was suddenly flooded with images of Burke singing with a bunch of kids, imitating the chickens and the cows— _He would make a good father, so long as he didn't get mad when his kids laughed at his singing._—It was a weird thought. It was even more weird when she saw herself standing in the background smiling at Burke and his children.

Cristina looked up and grinned in his direction, before humming along.

It wasn't a bad song at all.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I really wanted a breakfast in bed scene, but Cristina was going to trip over and stain the sheets. Burke wouldn't be too happy with bread crumbs on the carpet. Kitchen is still cool, I hope.

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Cristina didn't usually wake up smiling—her mother used to call her a grumpy child. Today, she smiled although she didn't wake up to the smell of coffee. Last night was fantastic. It was so fulfilling both physically and emotionally that all night long she was dreaming of wonderful things happening between Burke and herself.

It was barely dawn, yet she was so full of energy that she couldn't fall back to sleep. Cristina rolled out of bed, careful not to wake him up. He was sleeping like a baby. If there was one person in this world who could elicit the maternal instinct in her, it would be this man.

She would give him everything. She vowed to take every measure to protect him, like a child. The determination surprised her, but she couldn't stop the corner of her lips from curling up as she pulled the quilt over his shoulders. _Must be the hormones._

The room was a little chilly but she felt warm inside. Her nightgown hanged loosely around her. In his sleep, Burke thought he saw a fairy flew by him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. She smelled great.

Cristina scanned through their spotless kitchen the same way she looked around the OR on her first day at Seattle Grace.

True, she couldn't cook a chicken, but she knew how to boil an egg. A year ago the word _breakfast_ wasn't in her dictionary, and now she's making one. That was simply unbelievable.

She shook her head at the sight of the package of the bread loaf. Burke was so health-conscious. It had to be whole-wheat bread with omega-3, or else he wouldn't eat it.

"What's wrong with the wheat bread?" Burke whispered into her ear before kissing the back of her neck.

"Oh, you're up."

"Are you making… breakfast?" Burke's eyes lit up with amazement.

"What else might I be doing?" Cristina smiled in pride.

"So it's gonna be plain bread and coffee I assume?" Burke teased her.

"And eggs," Cristina added. "Now, go get the toast and coffee ready. I'll be ready soon."

Burke clasped his hands and waited patiently at the table. Cristina seemed to be really serious about what she was doing. It was fun to watch.

"Stop looking at me. You're making me nervous!"

Burke burst out laughing. _Was this her first time boiling an egg?_

Without saying a word, Cristina placed two silver egg stands in front of them.

The creature sitting in the stand looked adorable. The top was cracked open and one could see the creamy yoke and the solid white.

"Is that soft-boiled egg? I am impressed," Burke's spoon advanced into the core of the egg.

"Wait!" Cristina stopped him. "You need to add sugar."

Burke raised one of his eyebrows. "Who taught you to eat soft-boiled eggs with sugar?"

"Nobody," Cristina looked like a child anxious to have the approval from her parent. "But I like it that way."

"Ok." The stubbornness in Cristina always cracked him up. _Whatever she said, he would follow._

She knew he would laugh if she told him that was how she imagined her first kiss in her childhood fantasy; but this was how she wanted him to remember her, to remember them—solid on the outside; sweet, warm, and tender inside.

Burke couldn't exactly read her mind as they delved into their eggs, but when their eyes met again, their silver spoons landed on the table with a clank. He pulled her towards himself and allowed their tongues to intertwine.

It was delicious.


End file.
